HOGWARTSING ELDERS
by Flaylda
Summary: Fubuki and Hishigi are allowed to live once again... but on one whacky condition! They have to spend a whole year in Hogwarts, as STUDENTS! “Revenge can be so sweet sometimes,” Muramasa says. HP cross.


**HOGWARTSING ELDERS**

SUMMARY

Fubuki and Hishigi are allowed to live once again... but on one whacky condition! They have to spend a whole year in Hogwarts, as STUDENTS! "Revenge can be so sweet sometimes," Muramasa says. HP cross.

**FFFFFFFFFFFF**

...What? Don't throw such fierce stares! Fine, I DO understand that this story sounds like another trash coming from me. Well, don't like don't read, it's that simple! XD

Well, my sister shouted something like, "ARE you kind of LUNA!?" just after she read the nice summary up there. I'm SO starting to consider it. Yeah, maybe I am:P Now look at me: Flaylda, fourteen years old, the worst author in the world, launching another fresh lunacy by combining Samurai Deeper Kyo and Harry Potter all-in-one!!! Yay for my insanity! XD XD XD

...Ooookay, enough for side-stuffs, let's get straight to the point! As the summary should have told you, this is Hishigi-Fubuki-Muramasa centric—not much of our beloved protagonists Kyo and the gangs—and IS NOT yaoi. Standard crossover storyline with our favorite Elders sent to an unknown place (in this case, Hogwarts) by the will of the long-departed-Muramasa, intended for giving them another chance to live and be nicer. Common, huh? I know there're already lotsa fics with similar storylines. I just feel like writing it, and I have to give it a shot! XD XD XD

This takes place in Harry's sixth year. Of course, the Elders have to enter classes, and then befriend with Harry... Gwaaah, I am excited to write thiiisss!!! Maybe some of you have noticed the oddities: "How the hell could they enter classes when they had the appearance of 30-years-old-men!?" To reveal it, you need to _read_ yourself XD

Happy reading!+

WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS!!! O.o

Disclaimer: I seriously want to own SDK and all its lovable characters, especially the yummy-looking 'Taru, but sadly I don't and I will never do.

**CHAPTER ONE : SCANDALS AND ARRIVALS**

Few things could annoy Hishigi, the prodigy of Mibu. Being a cool and smart Elder, Mibu ladies had never took their puckish eyes off him, and to explain the doldrums of having _grown_ women chasing you around like some lovey-dovey teens after too much Prince-on-a-white-horse daydreaming, you would most likely need a word beyond 'the greatest annoyance'. Thanks to the lovable fans, he was now well-trained in handling something called temper—not to mention that he used to work in a certain group with a chauvinistic Leader who had some weird obsession with cats, a girl who happened to contradict her feminine by doing cross-dress constantly, and a blind man who had sort of outlandish fad to stick his tongue out at any possible moment. He should be grateful that the-'Things have their own good and bad sides'-line had proven itself to be true, as those difficult years of dealing with the bizarre crews had earned him thicker patience, at least.

Few things could make him show his emotions either. He hardly reacted to any shallow gossips around, not even to ones which doubted his masculinity. In Mibu, chitchats were highly dangerous, for people seemed to be excessively bored with the peacefulness that they began to spice everything up. The Elders and The King were kind of public's official victims. Aka no Ou had cried in agony at "The King happens to have a hidden harem!"-rumor, Tokito had killed everyone who suspected her for keeping Chappie Dolls in her drawers (which was apparently true; she was just too shy to admit it, and the truth might be going to endanger her fake maleness), Yuan had gotten rid of those who believed that he had a forbidden affair with his apprentice Keikoku, and Fubuki had had difficult times to cool himself down after hearing something like "You know, Fubuki-sama and Hishigi-sama have slept together!", but none of those had affected him at the very least.

It wasn't like he had no emotions at all. Under rare circumstances, he took his heartless mask off; he became more _human_. However, something influential enough was required to make this part shown; so whenever the unofficial Vice-Leader of The Elders spoke his heart, in all likelihood, something extremely good or awfully bad had happened. Thank God that it was only Fubuki and Muramasa who witness him crying at Hitoki's secret funeral, or else new buzzes about Hishigi-sama-was-actually-so-emo would have started.

And now, piercing sharp stares at a certain hairy man, he didn't busy himself to hide his furiousness. Quite the opposite, he DID need to show it, for he currently had some loathing towards the said victim. Much to the scientist's happiness, his effort didn't seem to go unsuccessful. Fubuki had been avoiding his defiant eyes, and as the time passed with silence thicker than snow layers in winter, a blameworthy look eventually took over his usually-oh-so-prideful face.

"...Well?" Hishigi broke the cold silence with even colder words, "Feeling the need to _apologize_?"

Fubuki tried, _hard_, not to be so easily intimidated by the supposedly-inferior-occupant—well, HE was the head of the Elders! But no one seems able to escape Hishigi's overwhelming dark aura, after all. Two-hundred-years were quite a time for a friendship; more than enough to learn someone perfectly (in a partial way, of course—mind you, all he had to learn was the _day_ life). Lesson one: the genius got pissed off once in a blue moon, but whenever he _did,_ someone or _something_ sure was going to suffer. Great. He had been another victim of Hishigi's peculiar discontentment.

"Look, Hishigi," finally, he was able to choke some words out, feeling the urge to regain his lost pride, "I can't see why you are so mad about this-"

Hishigi snorted at the shallow excuse. "_Why_ am I mad? Haven't I told you the tale, Fubuki?" his voice was melodiously evil, "There I was, willing to sacrifice my life for you. I gave you my precious heart, told you to continue living... I died on you, and what did you do in exchange?" Fubuki almost shivered when the genius flashed a vampire smirk (almost! Fubuki, the Leader of the Elders, did NEVER shiver!), "_Nothing_. Nothing, Fubuki. Let us not discuss about the fact that _you_ even stabbed yourself to Shinrei's swords, and that officially ended your life in sweet suicide. We _are_ both dead."

Yep, Fubuki had definitely caught the point now. Not that it helped him. He felt even worse, knowing that Hishigi was nothing but true. They WERE dead. To add the fact, they died by their own will, or 'suicide' in shorter speech. Hishigi wasted his soul in all legacy and faith, trying to save his life, while he himself... wasted the precious soul which his best mate had ever so kindly saved so that Kyo and the others could create a future without past scars. Now that even sounded cliché to him! He didn't regret it, though—it was just that he didn't know _how_ to spill the reasons out in _no_ silly way.

_Seesh_, Fubuki thought bitterly, _at least trying won't hurt_. "I... believe in those youths," the scientist glared at him in seemingly-full-force, but he didn't utter a word, so Fubuki decided to continue, "There was something about them... the way their eyes shone, they way they convinced me... I guess Muramasa was right after all. They were our hope—the Demon Child and the rest of his rebellion gang," he was silently relieved to see the softening face of his occupant, "They _can_ defeat the Crimson King; I know for sure. Needless to say, our job in the human world has simply done. I had no need to stay there any longer."

"Quite a reason," Hishigi quirked an eyebrow, the scary look disappeared perfectly from his handsome face, "you've got some points there."

Fubuki had to keep himself from cheering loudly. "See? I didn't kill myself for nothing."

Hishigi still had a deep scowl. "My grief is staying, anyway. If I had known that you were going to kill yourself, I wouldn't have saved you from the first place."

Fubuki rolled his eyes. "In case you forget, I died when I tried to protect my dear daughter Tokito from that King of Moron's arrow. So I didn't really depart by my own hands, unlike someone who had voluntarily exploded himself."

The addressed man gave a tilting head as a respond. Hishigi, the prodigy of Mibu, wasn't a ticklish type anyway. "Yes, and the exploding man here wants to tell you about how unthankful you can be sometimes, because he did it to save your life, and you were the one who had made his effort a vain," he said, flatly and diplomatically, causing Fubuki to roll his eyes in gloom and open his mouth to give a smart counter—but the genius went on sharply, with more concerned tone, "Enough for blaming each other, I suppose. One problem over, another one waiting ahead," Hishigi moved his single onyx eyes to their surrounding, "as I don't think we have figured out where on earth we are."

At this point, Fubuki let out a heavy sigh.

Black eyes darting around, the silver-haired man felt his heart reach a point of deep frustration. Wherever he looked, there was just white, never-ending nothingness, devoid of everything except the two solid bodies (or rather, _souls_) of Hishigi and himself. Even they couldn't see the ground on which they were sitting. To make the condition worse, both of the Elders didn't remember how they got there. They were sent to the Nothingland sharply a second after their death; however the Gods up there (or _up here_?) did that. Hishigi just happened to be there first—of course, because he was also the first to die. Fubuki followed suite in no moment, said sort of, "Hey, Hishigi! Guess what, I'm dead too!" and told his partner about how he proudly killed himself—but of course, that only drove Hishigi into his scary mode.

Well, they were over that already.

And yet now there they were, sitting like two idiots, having no clue as to what to do. Neither the Elder status nor the noble blood of Mibu could help in such situation—much to Hishigi's dismay, since he used to solve _every_ single problem he faced, strictly not letting even one to be left unanswered.

"Since _you_ can't identify our whereabouts, simply there's no hope for _me_ to find out," Fubuki groaned, "I'm having some newborn hatred towards white."

"Well... over all these years, I want to say the same thing," Hishigi commented emotionlessly, "your hair is one heck of whiteness."

The hairy man grumbled in despair. He hadn't been oblivious to his hair's oh-so-lovable condition. How _could_ he, with most of his monthly earnings spent for a hell pack of shampoos and hair combs!? He needed more than three full tubes only for one hair-washing, and no comb could stand against the wildness of his hair more than one combing. Geez, thank his parents very much for giving him such hair genes.

Wait. _Hair_... and _parents_?

Gosh, his mind was out of topic again. It was practically ridiculous—and ironical all the same—to have himself there along with Hishigi, speaking ever so nonchalantly about hair, while they completely realized that neither of them was a living man. Ridiculous, for the fact which they took in their deaths without any particular distress—and ironical, because he couldn't even recall the last time they had such talk when they were alive. Ever since the Mibu Plans started, their daily conversations had always been either about the war or the way to defeat the Demon Child. They used to exchange cold and stiff words. Taking no time to be friendly.

And currently, in their so-called-deaths, they actually _chatted_! A sardonic chat filled with teases, it was, but still... a _chat_. Fubuki couldn't prevent his lips from grinning lopsidedly. Maybe death wasn't that bad, if it meant for rebuilding his lost friendship...

"You're grinning," Hishigi noted.

"Can't I?" he replied challengingly.

The scientist shrugged. "The last time I saw you smiling without any apparent reason was about forever and a day ago."

A snort escaped from Fubuki. "And the last time I heard you teasing me was three universes ago."

They both smiled, enjoying the pure, comfortable silence which slowly took over the whole Nothingland. It really was NOT that bad. They might be either somewhere in Purgatory or Hell itself, but wherever they were, they didn't mind at all. At least they weren't tortured in starving red flames. _At least_ the place wasn't painful or something. It was just... _terrifically_ boring, and they could truly be bored to death if they were to stay there for all eternity. Neither was it a bad prospect, seeing that if they died -again- there, they might be on the way of reincarnation. Or perhaps they would be sent to the second purgatory.

Fubuki had started to go through another bunch of speculations (which grew more and more random as the time went by) when his ears pricked a voice,

"Why, don't ever consider trying to kill yourself here. It would only lead you to disappearance."

There were two things about the voice that made Fubuki jump on his feet.

One : It wasn't Hishigi's voice. Two : The voice was strikingly familiar, and it had just precisely spoken his thought.

And there were, too, two oddities that made Hishigi turn sharply on the mysterious voice.

One : It wasn't Fubuki's voice. Plus Two : The voice was strikingly familiar, and if his memories were still working fine, the voice belonged to no other than one certain man.

Both turning to the voice's origin in unison, the two Elders didn't expect to see their most horrible nightmare standing before them.

They were frozen on the spot, shocked. They were _hardly_ ever shocked. In any samurai battle, it was vital not to lose your concentration—because once you got stunned by something, it was likely raising your opponent's chance to rip you apart. Experiences taught them not to be easily dazed here and there. However, a same method just wouldn't go along well with every occurrence, would it?

In this case, _something_ caught them off-guard, at last. Their nightmare.

No, it wasn't a monster. Normal monsters wouldn't scare the Elders, if it wasn't _them_ who spooked those filthy creatures away. All the same, it wasn't a devil or anything evil. To think that their worst nightmare was a _devil_ was exactly the most silliest idea ever—since unofficially they were the Kings of the Devils themselves, and proud of that.

It wasn't anything spooky or scary with sharp razor teeth and clawed hands. It wasn't anything bloody or headless or whatever-less. It was _nowhere_ near those common creepy ideas.

Speaking frankly, it was even a _man_.

A man who would be easily mistaken for a woman by negligent observers, with large blue-lavender eyes that furthered the original felinity in his face, and long, silky blonde hair that went down to his waist. He was wearing sort of pure-white kimono, which completely perfected his angelic feature. A genuine smile was apparent on his face, yet it only seemed to enhance the other men's fear.

"Hi Fubuki, Hi Hishigi," Muramasa the former Elder said in cheery voice, "Long time no see. And that rhymes!"

**FFFFFFFFFFFF**

Few things could drive Fubuki speechless. Being a charismatic and powerful Leader of The Elders, he wasn't one to be flabbergasted every now and then. Rather the opposite, his role was to _dumbfound_ the others. It was a required skill as the Head of the most powerful group in the entire Clan, since political games were colonizing the Government quite passionately, and to handle a game, you ought to be a good gamer. Acting, faking, and intimidating were sort of his... _daily_ routines. Hundred years of mortal living had indeed granted him something useful: the ability to prevent his inner emotions from surfacing outside, while constructing a quiet, tactical, yet _deadly_ ambush. He used to sit and listen in silence; cool façade was always his choice, but deep inside, his logic was spinning in wild whirlwind, as it struggled to study the ones with whom he was dealing at the time. The way they talked, the way they motioned, they way they lied, the way they _sucked_ up... his mind took those information as pieces of puzzle, which he would arrange into an understandable form of personality. That way, he could easily manipulate and toy them around. Understanding someone's persona was far more useful that anyone would've ever thought.

But now, facing a man who was once his best friend before they went on separated ways, he felt like it was him who'd been toyed around.

There he was. Muramasa. Smiling like he used to do all the time. The smile Fubuki had always remembered. The bright, broad, and genuine smile which the blonde had never been hesitant to show. He looked _just_ like a holy angel from heaven. There wasn't a single trace of vengeance in his lavender eyes—it was a look of pure kindness and forgiveness, and it DID cause him to fall wordless. Something warm stung the corner of his eyes. Tears. But he wouldn't let them come out, not now at least, because he hated dramas where two old buddies shed tears of happiness in their ever-so-sweet reunion.

"Muramasa..." he mouthed the man's name, voice shaking softly.

Muramasa didn't seem to notice the other men's bafflement, and straightforwardly gave them a big bear hug, which the two couldn't manage to evade. "I miss you two," he said, and neither Fubuki nor Hishigi wasn't bewildered when they saw two droplets of tears strolling down Muramasa's cheeks.

"Er..." Hishigi was unsure if he should say something. He, too, missed the blonde man very much, but... he couldn't just hug back and scream, "I miss you too, Muramasa!", could he? Nah, that sounded absurd.

Fubuki, on the other hand, had to rebel against the urge to shed his tears. He just wanted to spill them out and give the blonde a friendly hug... but his body wouldn't listen to him. He halted on the spot, watching in slow motion as Muramasa enfolded his hands to his neck.

After what felt like eternality, Muramasa released his embrace—much to Fubuki's happiness, because his resistance was really growing thin, and he _almost_ couldn't withstand his will to cry any longer. Purple eyes shot at black spheres. Smiling face stood against scowling ones.

"So," Muramasa said, completely happy, "How did you _die_?"

Fubuki and Hishigi exchanged glances.

"Both suicides," Hishigi stated shortly, "but couldn't you just _read_ our mind?"

Muramasa's eyes widened, and he began to chuckle gently. _Always OUR mother, isn't he? _Hishigi groaned mentally. "The smartest and the sharpest, you are!" the angelic Elder replied, still laughing, "Well, you see, my _Satori_ still lasts even after my death, but the Heaven forbids me to use it. They seal my ability." He was so casually speaking, as though they were talking about the weather.

Hishigi took in the information quietly. He began to analyze everything. Heaven?

"Heaven," he suddenly blurted out, "so it means... you're staying in this... _heaven_, Muramasa?"

Muramasa nodded in unspoken delight. "Yes! Basically, I'm an _angel_ now... oh, Hitoki is there, too!" he told Fubuki, whose shade had been one or two stage paler than before. "What!?" the hairy man exclaimed, eyes widening, "Why... you... bring me there!"

"Hey, easy, easy!" the blonde positioned his hands in defensive way, "I actually come here to discuss your... _placement_, yes." He threw a weak beam, and the other Elders started to sense dread. Placement? That couldn't be good. Were they going to be sent downrightly to _hell_? Of course, heaven sounded far more promising, but their chance to get there was as thin as any piece of paper.

"So," Muramasa took a deep breath, "this place where we are talking right now is called the 'Middle'. We are right between the human world and the Ever After—the Ever After itself has two crucial construct, as all humans should have known... Heaven and Hell." he stopped for a moment to inhale, and frowned at the grim expressions which his occupants were visibly showing, "don't be so gloomy! I haven't even told you where you two would go!"

"So please hurry and just tell us already that you're going to toss me to hell," Fubuki muttered under his breath.

"I heard that, Fubuki!" Muramasa raised his eyebrows, growing furious, "You had grown more pessimistic than ever. No, you're not going to hell." The statement seemed to give the silver-haired man a thunderstruck. Hishigi, too, was brightened by this news.

"...But it doesn't mean that you two will go to heaven, either," Muramasa finished his sentence, and he could practically saw the hope falter from the two's faces.

"So where are we going, literally!?" Fubuki almost yelled in distress.

Muramasa sighed weakly. "Before you know that, let me explain _something_ first," slowly said the blonde, lavender eyes scanning the face of the other Elders, "the Gods were having difficult time to decide where you should go... since you two had indeed done many sins, but on good purpose after all. Usually, the souls will be taken uprightly to their 'meant' place, but in your case-" at this point, Muramasa saw Fubuki's expression, and added quickly, "No! You won't stay in the Middle forever! Please calm down, Fubuki."

He carried on, "Problems like yours aren't rare. This has happened several times before, and each time, an angel was sent to inform the souls about the Gods' final sentence. Sometimes, the soul would be simply sent back to their body—yes, we call it _resurrection_—so they could live again and be kinder, or even eviler. When they died again, the Gods would surely have no difficulties to choose his place. But this won't work for you, because your real bodies—I believe—had turned into millions of sparkling sands.

"Thus, there IS another option for souls whose bodies are no longer in condition to retrieve the spirit—had they been mutilated, deceased, putrefied, or whatever of such sort. It is to send the souls to another dimension, _completely_ apart from their own world, and gave them new bodies," he let out a bright smile, "and there you shall go."

Fubuki and Hishigi exchanged glances, again, only to find out that both of them had adopted kind of identical smirks. This couldn't get better. They were allowed to live, _afresh_!

"However," Muramasa's gentle voice cut out the blissfulness, "by this option, you are _timed_."

"What?" Fubuki and Hishigi uttered in unison.

"You are _timed_," Muramasa repeated solemnly, "you are given only a _year_ to prove yourselves."

"And why is that?" asked Hishigi, face devoid of anything except immense curiosity.

Muramasa made a slight frown. "The new bodies," he said, "they are only _temporary_ bodies. They can't last more than twelve months."

A thick silence crept into the space as the three Elders went lost in their own thoughts. Providentially, it didn't last. "I think we'll be just fine," Hishigi suddenly stated, only to collect some ferocious glares from Fubuki.

"What are you thinking!? It's only a year, and-"

"You want to rot here?" Hishigi cut off, "I don't. Be your way, I will still take the chance."

The statement happened to strike the Leader right on his head. That was true. The choices weren't much. Take the chance or be bored to death in the white Middle... "I can't help it," he heaved a sigh, "I guess I will go along."

Muramasa beamed at the two. "I know you will," he nodded his head in amazement, "Well, we're on! To the dimension portal!" the blonde had turned to lead the way when the black-haired scientist interrupted him,

"Wait, Muramasa," Hishigi wasn't satisfied yet. He still kept a crucial question. "Where _are_ we going to?"

"Speaking about huge inquisitiveness," the blonde rolled his eyes, "we are on the way to the most amazing place in human history... a place where magic gathers, where wizards talk, and witches chat. A place where history fills the atmosphere, where you will find more that can ever be found..." both Hishigi and Fubuki's face were tainted by exposed interest, "It's... a school of magic."

"Why there?" Fubuki questioned.

"Because it was most likely that any person from any age could deal with the place quite nicely," lavender orbs twinkled in merriment, "It is old—you can even call it 'antique'—yet in the same time _sophisticated_... and historical, as well. The most important thing about the place, however, is that the wizards there have some kind of spell to _erase_ your memories," his tone saddened, "and that means... yes. After a whole year there, studying, befriending with the staffs, you will be swept out completely from their minds. We Angels have some sort of deals with the Headmaster there."

Fubuki grunted in misery. "We're there not to be there," he stated bitterly, "how ironic."

"Once again, Fubuki, we have _no choice_," Hishigi said through stoic tone, though with the tiniest hint of acrimony.

And they followed Muramasa, who paced through the whiteness as though walking on visible roads. Here and there he made a turn, and the other men greatly wondered how he could make out the directions in such void.

"And... what's the name of the place, Muramasa?" Fubuki asked blatantly when they made the tenth turning.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the blonde responded in light voice, "I've been sent there twice to accompany the souls... including this mission, it makes three," he smirked as he saw Fubuki's eyes vaguely widened in surprise, knowing that Muramasa was going to convoy them, "And angel friend of mine knows that place very good. His name is Sirius Black. A kind one, he is... died when a Death Eater attacked him... (Fubuki and Hishigi weren't familiar with those words, but they didn't feel like asking anyway) ...he said that he was once a student of Hogwarts." as he finished the sentence, he stopped pacing and stood still on a spot.

Fubuki was confused, and Hishigi was questioning mentally. There was just usual whiteness there, and they couldn't see anything that looked like portal or door.

At least they thought so, until Muramasa lifted his hand, and torrents of red light broke out from nowhere. The light was piercing, and they had to shut their eyes to prevent further damage. The red sprays began to overwhelm, creating a never-ending cyclone that swallowed them, bit by bit... slowly but _sure_...

And everything metamorphosed into pitch black shadow.

**FFFFFFFFFFFF**

**AN: _Thanks so much for reading! I know this chapter is too slow... too much emo stuffs, I guess? XD I just want to really explain how our Elders ARE indeed sorry for their past mistakes. My grammar sucks... well, try deal with it :D Next Chapter : meeting with the Headmaster, the action begins... new bodies, Hishigi suddenly becomes emo, old habits die hard... if you want me to continue this, you just need to review. I will appreciate any, any kind of review, even to ones which only say 'continue, please' or even those that humiliate me right on the face... please, guys, I need your support! XD_**

**_IMPORTANT : I shall explain about my fics' lack of update... most of you desperately hope for 'Harvest Moon's update, I believe :) I HAVE written the first chapter, but it's kinda off... and of course, I can't disappoint you all... so I decide to rewrite it. Please be patient. I AM an incapable writer, yes. Please forgive me for that! TT _**

**_Estimated time : 1-2 month; Status : 20 of total progress. _**

**_One more thing... do you want me to include Kyo and the gang in this fic, or you'd like another crossover fic with the protagonists as the main characters? If you want them in THIS fic, the consequence is most likely they wouldn't show up too much, seeing that the title up there is 'HOGWARTSING ELDERS' and not 'HOGWARTSING KYO'. and I you choose the second option... I'm not making any promise, so we can't be completely sure whether the fic would be launched or not. _**

_**Please, review!**_


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